


You’re either the Store Manager or just one of the staff

by LazySundayMusings



Category: Peter Kay's Car Share (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 19:13:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15371427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazySundayMusings/pseuds/LazySundayMusings
Summary: John says his job is ‘all right’.  Let’s see.Set on a Tuesday between the end of S2x01 and the start of S2x04.





	You’re either the Store Manager or just one of the staff

The sky was already getting cloudy as the Fiat pulled up outside the small Bury house. Kayleigh was waiting outside - for a change - and John had no sooner pulled on the handbrake than she was in the passenger seat and motioning for him to get moving again. “Oh,” he thought, “no bike-talk for me this morning”.

As Kayleigh adjusted the seatbelt she noticed something in the back seat.   
“Why do you have a briefcase?”  
“Dave Thompson’s idea, so managers look like ‘managers’ and not just ‘staff in suits’”.  
“How lame. So what’s in it?”  
“Nothing. Well - my sandwiches.”  
“Since when do you make your own lunch?”  
”I’m acting for Dave while he’s at the store managers’ meetup in Wigan all day, and I can’t see me getting much free time”.   
“That’s a shame.” she said. “Still, gives you the chance to show what you can do when you’re in charge. Will I be calling you ‘Captain Redmond’ after today then?” she teased.  
“No, I don’t think so” he replied with a chuckle. Because he knew what was waiting for him, and none of it would give him the chance to make an impact.  
They were both quiet for a few moments, then “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears started playing on the radio.  
“I hate this song” he said, changing the subject. “Plodding. Dreary. Just awful”.  
“But it’s one of my favourites!” she replied.  
John just made a face.

********************

The sky continued to cloud over as they drove, swept along with the traffic that conspired to get him there well before 9 o’clock. The music and their conversation was almost enough to distract him from the dreary day that awaited him. Almost.  
Far too soon they pulled into his parking space where he shut off the engine and they sat in silence for a moment.

“No point putting this off.” he thought as he started to get out. “Have a good day, eh?”  
“You too... don’t forget your fancy lunchbox, Mr Manager!”  
She grinned then turned and headed for the staff entrance. His smile faded as he watched her walk away. When she passed through the door the last patch of blue sky disappeared and it became yet another gloomy Manchester day. Perfectly matching his mood.

He picked up the pointless briefcase, locked the Fiat and trudged inside. The staff-only door slammed shut behind him with a loud metallic CLANG.   
“Like a bloody prison cell” he mused.

At the desk he was greeted by the sight of a pile of paper and folders marked for his attention. After logging in he then discovered the 30+ emails forwarded by Dave Thompson, all requiring different information for Head Office that had to be manually collated, almost-all flagged as URGENT.  
His shoulders sagged.  
“Fuck.”

********************

John didn’t leave his office all day. The door stayed closed and his only human interaction was via the phone to suppliers, department heads and Dave Thompson who wanted an update on how 'his' work was coming along (but not until he’d droned on about their fantastic lunch and the pub where they planned to spend the afternoon). But after more than eight lonely hours of menial admin tasks, soggy sandwiches and clock-watching, it finally ticked past 5 o’clock.   
The five remaining emails weren’t urgent but he printed them out so he could work on them overnight, meaning that everything - urgent and otherwise - would be finished by the time Dave bothered to turn up the next morning.

John dropped his ‘homework’ in the briefcase and closed it, put on his jacket and left his office. As he walked down the corridor he forced himself to maintain the detached demeanour expected of the assistant manager, nodding and saying “Goodnight” to other staff. Then he passed through the staff-only exit, leaving the claustrophobic, harshly-lit hallway behind him and walked out into the cool air of the carpark. He unlocked the Fiat, placed the briefcase and suit jacket on the back seat then leaned against the door and waited, feigning impatience as he made a show of checking his watch a few times.   
But when Kayleigh walked through the door he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. She saw him, smiled and gave a little wave.

“Hiya” said John. “Big smile there - had a good day, did you?”  
“Lovely day.” she replied. “Busy, but fun. My Dunkers were very popular. How was your day then?”  
A pause. “It went all right, yeah.” he lied.  
They got in. Another pause.  
“Hang on - your WHAT were very popular?”

She giggled as the engine started. “Cheeky!”


End file.
